Miniver Cheevy
by MicB
Summary: What goes up must come down,and after William thought life was perfect with Jocelyn,she died.Two years later William meets Wat's sister.Will love follow,or will it all come crashing down again? Will/OC;PG-13 later.Reviews are appreciated but not necessary
1. Ring Around the Rosie

"Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes..."  
  
William looked panicked, trying to run through the circle of children and reach Jocelyn, who was laying quite still in the middle.  
  
The children laughed at his efforts. He had nothing to fight with, no time to spare. The children kept singing.  
  
"We all fall DOWN."  
  
William sat up in bed, startled. It took him a moment to realise where he was. Rain was pounding on the roof, and leaking on to his floor.  
  
He rubbed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw his father's house. He could hear his father in the next room, snoring. It had been a dream. Just like all the others.  
  
But it had been so real. The children had taunted him, over and over... he shook when a breath of cool air came in through his window, and he curled back under his blankets. He would not be getting any sleep tonight.  
  
He reached his hand out under the covers and grabbed at a silver ring sitting on his table. It slipped over his pinky easily and he sighed. It was so tiny. He would have given anything to let the disease take him, make him miserable until he could hardly fight it anymore.  
  
When the Black Death had swept over the land, it had not been a chooser. It had taken almost everyone with it in its path.  
  
It had taken Jocelyn with it.  
  
William buried himself further under his blankets. The sound of the water dripping on the floor made him feel anxious, and when he could hardly stand it, he got out of bed and eyed the roof. It was fixable, and could be repaired in a short time. He also needed the fresh air. Besides, his father would be pleased.  
  
His father. He had been living with him in his hovel for two years since Jocelyn's death. He had stopped entering tournaments, much to Roland and Wat's dismay. Besides being their friend, he was their source of income. He had let them down. He had let himself down. He loved nothing more than competing, but he did not feel the need anymore. He had no one to prove his skills to, no one would be waiting for him after another victory, loving him with their all and willing to give up their life for him. How ironic it had been.  
  
William walked quickly by his father's room, trying not to make much noise on the wood floorboards. He grabbed a handful of nails and a hammer and went to the window, looking out. He could not see far through the rain, but he knew the land well. It had proven to be an excellent medicine over the years. It was quiet in the spring, when the grass was growing in full and flowers sprung up through the ground. Now, in the fall, there were many people coming to London. A new tournament would be starting in two months and people were trying to take residence.  
  
William swung himself out the window and onto the roof. He made his way up carefully, watchful of slick areas where he could fall. He worked steadily on the spot that was starting to cave in.  
  
William almost hit his hand with the hammer when he heard the loud noises of horses along the road. Obviously, other people heard it too, as lanterns were lit next door, and people walked to their windows, muttering at the racket.  
  
William looked down and laughed. The horses were leading a carriage with a coat of arms on the side, and the squire's leading it appeared to be lost.  
  
One of the men looked up and saw William. When he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, his voice was distressed. "Good man! Can you please tell me where we are?"  
  
William chuckled and yelled back. "You're in London!"  
  
The man scowled at William's cheek. "I know that, can you tell me which direction I need to take to get to the Falhurst residence?"  
  
William paused. Wat must have done something illegal, that was sure, for someone of such importance to be going through the area looking for him. He wasn't sure if he should try to outrun them and warn his friend, or stay where he was.  
  
"And who is asking?"  
  
"My name is Thomas, I am the squire for Cora von LaMotte. Falhurst's sister."  
  
William let out a yelp and almost fell off the roof. Obviously they were mistaken. Wat did not have a sister. He never mentioned anyone but himself.  
  
"Falhurst does not have a sister. I am sure of it."  
  
"May I come up and speak to you then?"  
  
"If you can make it up to the roof, then alright!"  
  
"Please, let me come inside. The lady is tired and wants to see her brother."  
  
"Let the lady come in then, if she is so anxious. I have nothing to say to you, squire."  
  
"It is raining, surely you can come down here and speak to her?"  
  
William sighed. Maybe they would pay him for his help. He climbed down the roof and back through his window. A few moments later he came out the door, his boots sinking in the mud on his first step.  
  
The squire rushed forward and shook William's hand. "Thank you...?"  
  
"Sir William Thatcher."  
  
The man looked surprised, and with good reason. It would be hard to guess William for a knight.  
  
"Yes then, Sir Thatcher." He opened the door to the carriage and William stepped inside. He could hear the squire gasp at the mud being trailed in on the carpet.  
  
The woman, though, looked unfazed. She was covered with a cloak, and when she dropped it William was shocked to see a head full of ginger hair.  
  
"Sir Thatcher, you know of my brother Wat?"  
  
William paused. "Yes... but I am not sure he knows of you."  
  
"I suppose he wouldn't. Another family took me in, soon after I was born. My mother, Wat's mother, was ashamed of me. I was not born with the same father."  
  
William stayed silent as he processed the information. It was too odd, at any hour. "Wat knows nothing of you?"  
  
"No. I only just found my mother a year ago, but she was plagued with the Black Death. Everyone was."  
  
She paused and William cleared his throat, trying to hurry her along. He did not want to dwell on his own thoughts.  
  
She took the hint and continued. "Before she died, she told me that I had a brother, Wat Falhurst. I have spent the year searching for him."  
  
"I do not want to disappoint you, Lady LaMotte, but Wat is my squire. You are royalty."  
  
"I was taken in by Sir LaMotte. He rules an area in northern Scotland. My mother left me there. I grew up as a stable hand until I was eighteen, and then I was able to learn the ways of being a lady."  
  
William looked at her once she was done. Even if she hadn't told him of her relation, he would have thought it himself. Her features were so much like Wat's it was as if he was looking straight at his friend. The ginger hair, brighter than his good friends, the blue eyes and thin frame... he could hardly believe that he had doubted her at first.  
  
She seemed impatient of his searching eyes, and started to speak again, in a quiet, but rushed voice. "So you can see, Sir Thatcher, the importance that I find my brother."  
  
"Please, call me William. Or Will, if you like. I will show you where he is."  
  
She grinned and laughed anxiously. "Good! Does he live far?"  
  
William smiled as well. He would have a hell of a time seeing Wat's reaction. "No. But he is most likely asleep or drunk at this hour, so ignore most of the things he says."  
  
"I'll take the advice. When will we leave?"  
  
William opened the door. "Now." He stood outside and held out his hand for her.  
  
She raised her eyebrows as she looked outside. "In the rain?"  
  
William lowered his hand. "What, are you afraid? I thought you were raised as a stable hand!"  
  
"These shoes," she said with determination, "are from France. They are worth more than any prize you have received while jousting."  
  
"Then take them off if you're so worried."  
  
She looked at him, scandalized. "And walk barefoot in the mud?!"  
  
"What, did you think I was going to carry you?"  
  
She hesitated, and looked outside again. "Alright. Fine. Sure." She took off her shoes and grabbed a hold of William's hand. Her pale green cloak turned dark from the water and mud. The squires looked at her curiously, but said nothing as she stood with Will in the rain.  
  
"You sure it's not far?" She yelled through the rain.  
  
"It's just around the corner," he said, dragging her along.  
  
"I don't want to look like a mess when I meet him!"  
  
"Trust me, Wat's seen worse!" A few moments later they were in front of a small house. No lights were on; there was no sign of life.  
  
"Are you sure he's home Sir Thatcher?"  
  
"William, and yes, I'm sure."  
  
William opened the door and walked inside, and dropped Cora's hand once he realised he was still holding it.  
  
"His bedroom is upstairs, I'll start a fire and be back with him."  
  
She nodded nervously and sat on a stool, watching William as he lit a fire and then disappeared up the stairs.  
  
There was a loud crashing noise, making Cora jump, and then the sound of heavy footsteps walking down the stairs.  
  
"I'm your friend William, but this is torture, I- hello." Wat said, as he reached the bottom of the stairs. A smile played on the corners of his lips as he looked at Cora.  
  
He walked forward towards Cora, and kissed her hand. "William, where did you find this exquisite creature?"  
  
William stifled a laugh and looked at Wat. "Meet your sister, you prat."  
  
Wat looked at the two of them and punched Will on the shoulder, laughing. "Good joke, Will. If you wanted her for yourself, you could have said so."  
  
Cora took off her cloak and Wat stopped laughing.  
  
"She..."  
  
"Hello Wat," she said, holding out her hand again. "I'm Cora von LaMotte. Your sister." 


	2. Next to Kin

Wat stood, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. William nudged him and he jumped slightly, realising the awkward silence that he had been creating.  
  
"I don't have a sister." His voice was cold, confident.  
  
William laughed lightly. "Seems you do mate."  
  
Cora looked at them, uneasy. Her mouth also opened and closed a few times in a row. "I have news of our mother, Mary Falhurst."  
  
Wat seemed to relax at the name and sat down next to Cora. "So you're..."  
  
She nodded and smiled. He smiled back but made no move.  
  
"And our father, Benjamin Falhurst?"  
  
Cora looked hesitant as she twisted her hair around her finger in worry.  
  
Wat looked to William. "What?"  
  
When Cora spoke it was hardly above a murmur. "My father is James Watson."  
  
Wat's eyes flashed. "What are you saying."  
  
"We have different fathers, Wat. Mary had an affair."  
  
Wat made no reply, no move. His face was steadily matching the colour of his hair.  
  
"My mother was a good woman." His voice was resigned as he went on. "She did not parade around like a whore. You are a bastard child and are none of my concern. How could you ever be a sister to me."  
  
His made a disgruntled noise and stood up before he continued. "And what happened to her? You said you had news."  
  
Cora was grave but her voice was steady. "She died, a year ago. The plague took her too."  
  
Wat crossed his arms and nodded. "Just as well. Better for her to die before I found out what she really was. I'm going back to bed."  
  
William grabbed Wat's arm as he walked past. "Wat, don't be such a bastard." William's eyes widened as he realised the impact of what he had said.  
  
Wat turned to Cora and then looked back at William. "I guess it runs in the family." He turned and stomped up the stairs.  
  
Cora sat firm, looking at the empty spot where Wat had stood.  
  
William took her arm and pulled her lightly to her feet. "Come on. There is nothing for you here."  
  
She shook her head and pulled away. She ran forward and up the staircase. William followed her, already uneasy by the sound of a slamming door.  
  
Wat was lying in bed, arms folded across his chest.  
  
"How dare you speak to me like that."  
  
He looked up and saw Cora standing at the foot of his bed. William was standing in the doorframe, ready to break up their argument the moment one of them snapped.  
  
"You're just a silly girl," Wat sat, climbing out of bed.  
  
William tensed in the doorway but said nothing.  
  
"I traveled for a year from Scotland to see you, I never knew my mother, I never knew my father, I thought I would get to know my brother, but he ended up being nothing but a coward. I am ashamed to be related to you and I don't know why I wasted my time."  
  
Wat walked forward until he was a foot away and glared at her. "Neither do I."  
  
"You," she spat, "are the only real family I have left. If we truly are related, then you know I have a temper like hell and that I will use it whenever I see fit. What will it take for me to get through to you?"  
  
"Hit me."  
  
She closed her mouth and looked at Wat. "I'm sorry, what?"  
  
"A good fonging. Come on, hit me. If I'm such a coward, then let's see if you're one too."  
  
She walked forward and raised her arm. "I guess we're not related. Because I would never hit my brother." Her fist made contact with his eye, the noise making William jump.  
  
"Christ!" Wat yelped, holding his head and swaying slightly. "You really hit me!"  
  
"Don't tempt me to do it again."  
  
Wat stepped forward, hand raised, and then stepped back, dropping it.  
  
William was uneasy as the two stood with their eyes locked; no expressions masked their faces. He would rather the two be fighting again.  
  
Wat was the one to break the gaze as he stepped back, defeated as he looked at his feet, as if he were shy. "You must really be my sister then, to know how to hit like that."  
  
She gasped slightly and stood still, waiting for him to go on.  
  
He pressed his fingers against his eye, wincing. "What did you say your name was?"  
  
"Cora von... Cora. Call me Cora."  
  
"You throw a bloody good arm."  
  
"It must run in the family," she said quietly, as though speaking would change his decision.  
  
He didn't look up from his feet but he held out his hand and motioned it towards him. "Come here, give your brother a hug."  
  
She let out a small cry and moved towards him, hugging him tightly. Wat patted the top of her head awkwardly, not sure what to do with her, and then stepped back, looking her over.  
  
"Ah yes," he said, rubbing his chin. "I see it. We both must have Mary's dashing good looks." He seemed to have forgiven his mother as he smiled.  
  
She laughed slightly and pushed her hair back from her face. "So does this mean that I can stay?"  
  
Wat looked slightly startled. "Stay?"  
  
"Yes, until the tournament ends."  
  
"The tournament? Are you a woman or a knight?"  
  
"My fiancé is competing in the tournament."  
  
"Your fiancé?"  
  
"Gerald." She smiled proudly. "He is a knight."  
  
Wat smiled broadly. "Then I'll have to meet him!"  
  
She looked at him, coyly. "Anyone special in your life, Wat?"  
  
He stuttered random words and then said a girls name quietly.  
  
"Kate?" She asked, smiling. "Is she your girlfriend?"  
  
Wat's face turned red and he ran his hand through his hair. "Um, no, well, yes, you see her and I are. yes, sure, she is my girlfriend," he stammered.  
  
Cora smiled. "I would like to meet her too, then. Anyone else I should worry about?"  
  
William laughed and stepped out of the doorway and up to the two. "There's also Roland and Geoff... Roland lives here with Wat and is no worry, but don't get mixed up with Geoff... he's a writer."  
  
Cora nodded in understanding. "Well then, get Roland! Where is he?"  
  
"With Christiana, I suppose," Wat answered. "His fiancé."  
  
"Well!" She said, sounding surprised. "I've missed a lot over the past twenty years."  
  
Wat nodded. "We'll catch you up. I'll help you get your things. Are they downstairs?"  
  
She shook her head. "All of my squires went to the Darby Inn, down the road. My trunks are in my carriage. We can get them in the morning."  
  
"Alright." Wat said. He motioned towards the door. "Would you like some tea?"  
  
"How about some whiskey?" She asked with a laugh.  
  
Wat laughed and nodded.  
  
"Cora... welcome to the family." 


	3. For The Love of the Game

The trophies looked so nice when they weren't covered in dust.  
  
William stood in front of his shelf and blew lightly on the statue of a man on his horse. That had been his last trophy before Jocelyn had died.  
  
Most he had sold for money to pay Wat and Roland for their help, to Chaucer for his wonderful introductions, and for Kate to get more supplies to keep his armor in top shape. He glanced at the armor sitting on his chair. It looked distant; something from his past that he couldn't quite get rid of.  
  
He bent down slightly, trying to remember how it felt on his back. It was lighter than anyone else's and it had been all his. It was still his, if he was up to the challenge.  
  
He shook his head and turned away. Those days were over. He had no reason to be dangerous anymore. The thrill of adventure had gone away with Jocelyn and he wasn't sure he wanted to bring it back. His life was stable. Everyone's lives were stable.  
  
Roland had been working in a pub since Will had quit jousting. Geoffrey was still writing and was starting to make a living with it. Kate was becoming more serious with Wat, and Wat...  
  
William shook his head. His friend's life was not stable anymore. Cora had shown up completely unexpected and had riled up Wat more than he had seen him in the past year. She would be good for Wat; she would bring excitement, and a new voice to the table.  
  
And William... William was living with his father, helping him make nets.  
  
William had never been the same since Jocelyn's death, and although he felt the pain inside, his friends recognized it in his features. They would catch him staring outside his window, staring at nothing, really, but staring all the same. Before Wat and Kate had started a relationship, Will had tried one with her. After a week it had ended miserably with her threatening to throw hammers at him if he talked to her one more time. Kate was such a good friend.  
  
He hadn't had the interest to be with other women. There was no one around for him- cheap side was starting to become even more run down and less crowded. Soon no one wanted his attention, even if he was a knight. He had to admit it; he was becoming quite a bore ever since he was left alone. But he had his father, who took up a ton of his time, even though Will enjoyed it. But William had always wanted kids.  
  
He smiled, remembering himself as a child. He was earnest and learned all he could from Sir Ector. But he wanted one for himself, one he could teach and talk to, one to laugh with and tell stories to. His son could learn how to be a knight, he could joust and-  
  
Will felt himself swell with pride, thinking about jousting. Just as quickly he pushed the feeling back down. How would he have children if he became injured from a joust? Who would love him if he lost an arm? His mother had left his father over his blindness, and William would rather die than go through that pain and heartache. It would be even worse than losing Jocelyn.  
  
A loud crash from the next room interrupted his reverie and he ran to find out what had happened.  
  
He almost threw up at what he saw.  
  
"I want my money old man!"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about! I make nets!"  
  
William stared at the man holding his father down on the floor, knife to his neck.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" William yelled. The man holding the knife jumped, startled that there was another man, a younger man, in the house.  
  
The man quickly turned back to his father. "He owes me money for a bet."  
  
"You have the wrong man!" Williams voice was panicked, trying to sort through the information.  
  
"This is him! Thatcher, they said."  
  
"Who are they?!"  
  
"Young bloke, about thirteen. Said Thatcher would pay me. And I want my money boy."  
  
God how William hated kids. "You have the wrong man! I'm Thatcher, Sir William Thatcher. That man is just a visitor."  
  
The man dropped his father and pointed the knife in William's direction. "Then you better be able to pay me."  
  
Williams's eyes widened. He had money, but not enough to pay for a bet, and there was no time to borrow any from his friends. He had to think quickly.  
  
"Leave, and I will get you your money."  
  
"And how do you suppose you'll do that boy?"  
  
"I'm entering the joust, and I will be tournament champion. Then you will have your money." Even as he said it William felt slightly sick, yet the familiar tingle of excitement was starting to build in him. His father glanced at him from the floor.  
  
"That's no good! There is no guarantee you'll win!!"  
  
"I have never lost before. You will have your money."  
  
The man looked between William and his father, trying to decide.  
  
He grunted loudly and pocketed the knife. "I want my money. All of it. By the end of the tournament. Or I will be back."  
  
"Then you'll get it."  
  
The man stared for a moment at William, and then turned to leave.  
  
"If you don't, I'll make you just like your father. Sad, pathetic, and blind."  
  
He spit on the ground and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.  
  
His father scrambled on the ground. "William I-"  
  
William shushed his father and helped him up. He led him to a chair and then let go.  
  
A moment later his father spoke up. "Are you really going to joust son?"  
  
But William didn't answer. He was already trying on his armor. 


	4. No Need of Approval

"You can't joust. You're crazy to even try!"  
  
William leaned against the wall, staring intensely at his friends assembled around the room. The atmosphere changed at Roland's indications, and Will felt the old heat of an argument rising up inside himself.  
  
"Are you going to stop me, Roland? My father needs my help. Let me repay him for all he has done. Besides, what happened to the faith that you used to have in me?"  
  
Roland ran his hand through his thinning hair. "You haven't been in training and the tournament is in a month."  
  
"That never stopped me before."  
  
"You haven't even been on a horse in over a year. I just don't want to see you get hurt, that's all."  
  
"And I don't want to see my father get hurt." William turned away from Roland. It pained him, to be fighting. He wanted his friends approval. He needed it.  
  
His eyes rested on another familiar face. "What about you Wat?"  
  
"I think it's brilliant."  
  
Roland muffled a curse. William glanced sharply at Roland but continued.  
  
"And you, Kate?"  
  
"It's the best chance we've got."  
  
Will nodded. "Geoff?"  
  
"How else will you be announced?" He asked with a grin. William smiled back.  
  
"Well," William said, his voice reserved. "That settles it. I'll begin training in the morning."  
  
There was a large shadow on the wall as someone appeared on the stairs. "I think you're an idiot."  
  
William turned to the voice. Cora was looking around the scene before resting her eyes on him.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"It's ridiculous. Roland is right. You'll be obliterated."  
  
"You don't know me, Cora. You've never seen me joust."  
  
"Yes, and do you know your competition? Have you seen them joust? You haven't judged your odds. Find your opponents weaknesses, and then compete."  
  
William forced a laugh and dropped his crossed arms, stepping away from the wall.  
  
"How do you suppose I do that? 'Excuse me sir, but what is your handicap?' Right. Nice plan, Cora."  
  
"I was thinking of something a little more subtle."  
  
"Out with it then. What is your plan?"  
  
"The plan is for me. Remember I didn't come to London just for the gardens, William. Gerald will also be in the competition."  
  
He was starting to catch on. "And you'd see him fail to help me?"  
  
She shook her head. "I'm not crazy, William. I love Gerald, and I want to see him win just as badly as I want to see you win. But it would be easier to get information about the other competitors through him. You could learn their weaknesses, find out what makes them tick."  
  
"And why do you want to do this for me?"  
  
"Just because I never knew my father, William, doesn't mean I want to deprive you of yours."  
  
William turned to Roland. "Roland? What do you think?"  
  
Roland sighed. "God save you William."  
  
They grinned at each other, and William nodded. "Right." He looked at Cora. "How good is Gerald?"  
  
"He looks his opponents straight in the eye. Like a hunter. He'll be your greatest competition."  
  
He tensed and nodded slightly. "All right." He turned to Kate. "I need you to fix up my old armor. It fits, but there are a few spots where it is thin. Roland," he said, turning to his friend. "I am going to need a new tunic. And please don't make it out of a tent this time."  
  
Roland laughed. William was glad to see his disapproval was completely gone.  
  
"Geoff, start working on your speeches. I want you to win their hearts once more."  
"And Wat..."  
Wat looked up, smiling. He enjoyed the excitement.  
"Go get some rest. We'll start with the sun."  
He opened his mouth to protest but then smiled again. "Right, Sir William."  
"And Cora-"  
"I'll find him tomorrow."  
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" He asked.  
"Yes." She said, voice strong.  
Maybe only William had noticed it, but he didn't think she sounded very convincing.  
"Right," he said. "See you in the morning, then." 


	5. In the Morning

William sat down. "Adhemar... has a brother?" His voice was hoarse.  
  
Cora nodded.  
  
"What exactly is your plan?"  
  
She bit her lip, silent in thought. "Gerald still likes me, but..."  
  
William thought he saw her eyes flash at him. He rubbed his own eyes. It was late, he must have imagined it.  
  
"I am through with him. But... if you want, I could get information out of him."  
  
"To help William learn his weaknesses?" Geoff asked excitedly.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"That's an awful plan," Kate said.  
  
"It's the only one we've got." William said quietly.  
  
"She'll be using him, Will!"  
  
"Do you want Will to succeed or not?" Wat snapped.  
  
Kate threw Wat's arm off of her shoulder, glaring. He smiled weakly and stopped talking.  
  
"Is he better than Adhemar?" Roland asked.  
  
She nodded again. "Much. He is younger, more agile. He is very brave."  
  
"Yes, well, so is our William." Geoff said, patting his friend on the back. "Looks the opponent straight in the eye."  
  
"Like a hunter," Cora muttered.  
  
William turned to her quickly. "Excuse me?"  
  
She sighed audibly. "Gerald does the same thing. He keeps his eyes on the target. He would rather lose an eye than a joust. I'm not saying that you can't beat him Will," she said, noticing his alarm, "but it will be difficult. I'll help you, if you'll let me."  
  
"And why would you want to help me?"  
  
She let her eyes fall from his gaze. "You want to joust. I can see it in you. Besides, you want to help your father, and I never really knew mine. "  
  
He nodded slightly. "All right." He turned to Kate. "I need you to fix up my old armor. It fits, but there are a few spots where it is thin. Roland," he said, turning to his friend. "I am going to need a new tunic. And please don't make it out of a tent this time."  
  
Roland laughed and nodded. His disapproval had seemed to vanish.  
  
"Geoff, start working on your speeches. I want you to win their hearts once more."  
  
"And Wat..."  
  
Wat looked up, smiling. He enjoyed the excitement.  
  
"Go get some rest. We'll start with the sun."  
  
He opened his mouth to protest but then smiled again. "Right, Sir William."  
  
"And Cora-"  
  
"I'll find him tomorrow."  
  
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" He asked.  
  
"Yes." She said, voice strong.  
  
Maybe only William had noticed it, but he didn't think she sounded very convincing.  
  
"Right," he said. "See you in the morning, then." 


	6. Checkmate

**A/N: I've been asked what 'Miniver Cheevy' means. It's a poem by Edward Arlington Robinson. If you haven't read it- go check it out! Sorry for the lack of updates and how short this chapter is. School has kept me busy, but there should be more now that break is here! Wooo! Winter!  
  
"I can't keep my eye on the target if you keep moving it!"  
  
"It would be a lot easier if you could keep your arse on the saddle!"  
  
Will stopped his horse and pushed his visor up. Sweat was running down his forehead, clouding his vision. The afternoon sun was turning his armor into a melting machine.  
  
"Are we almost done yet?"  
  
Wat groaned and set down the wood target. "You need practise. You remember what Cora said, right?"  
  
"I said that he is better than Adhemar. That he fights like William. A true hunter."  
  
Both men turned to the voice. Cora was standing between two trees, looking at them with a watchful eye. William lowered himself from his horse and stood next to Wat.  
  
Wat let out a low whistle. "You look like a lady! Doesn't she, Will?" Wat nudged William in the ribs, hard.  
  
William took off his helmet and nodded in approval.  
  
"I am a lady you prat. I'm leaving soon to meet Gerald. Are you two done bickering or should I fetch Roland to break it up?"  
  
William stepped forward towards Cora. "You don't have to do this, you know."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I don't want you to be a casualty in my war."  
  
"I won't be on the battlefield. I might be a pawn, Will. But you're a knight. Your concern flatters me. But you aren't the one who should be worrying." She looked at Wat who raised his eyebrows.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Dropping targets? Arguments? Will needs to be training, Wat, not pretending to fight."  
  
Wat scowled. "I never asked for a sister, Cora. And I don't recall asking for a mother, either."  
  
"You go both when you took me on. Keep practising. I'm going to find Gerald."  
  
"Be careful," Wat said, his voice serious.  
  
"You too. The last thing we need is for your eye to get poked out." She winked at Will and turned around, walking back through the trees.  
  
"She's impossible."  
  
"She's your sister." 


	7. A Bohemian Storm is Brewing

**A/N: Can't seem to make long chapters, haha. Maybe the next one will be longer.  
  
"You look lovely."  
  
Cora leaned forward and kissed Gerald on the cheek. "You say that every time you see me. I'm beginning to think its just habit."  
  
He grinned and held her at arms length, looking her up and down. "You do, though. You know you do."  
  
She grinned in response and gave him a hug. "It is so good to see you. What have you been doing all day?"  
  
"Practising." He frowned, making his vibrant features look tired. "Peter has been running me ragged."  
  
She placed her hands on his chest. "Is there really a need?"  
  
He sighed. "The competition is tough this year."  
  
"But you'll beat them. You always do."  
  
He sat down on a fence and looked her in the eyes. "Do you remember a few years back... a man by the name of William Thatcher?"  
  
Cora's eyes flashed but she nodded. "He was good, right? Won tournament champion?"  
  
Gerald nodded. "There have been rumors that he is entering again. Obviously he won't be very good, he's been out of practise for too long. But... have you heard anything?"  
  
"I've heard his name around, but that's only because he lives over in Cheap side. His wife died, Gerald. He is probably still mourning that. You know there shouldn't be distractions during a tournament."  
  
"Which is why I keep trying to get rid of you," he said, laughing. His features sobered as he looked at her. "If he does enter, I'll have Peter take care of it."  
  
Cora drew back. "What do you mean 'take care of it'?"  
  
Gerald laughed but something changed in his face. "Nothing. Forget it."  
  
Cora's eyebrows furrowed but she remained silent.  
  
"What do you want to do today?"  
  
"I was hoping to watch you practise some. See how it was going."  
  
He laughed. "You? Woman of royalty, standing in the mud watching Peter make a fool of me? No sir. Let's go buy you something."  
  
"I don't really want anything, Gerald."  
  
"Nonsense. All women want jewelry. What do you want? A brooch, a necklace? The stars, the moon?" He laughed and pulled her close. "Or perhaps not something. How about someone, Cora?" He kissed her cheek. "It feels like I haven't seen you in so long."  
  
She didn't say anything.  
  
He frowned. "And I still feel like I am not seeing you. Is something wrong?"  
  
He ignored her startled jump. She could feel his eyes on her.  
  
"No, nothings wrong. And I would like a new bracelet, my old one is broken."  
  
"All right." He stepped away from the fence and took hold of her hand. "Today, it is just you and me."  
  
Cora forced a smile and walked beside him. It would have felt so lonely, if she couldn't see Wat's fiery red hair poking out from behind a fruit stand. 


	8. Buddha

"Enlighten me, Wat. Why are we spying on Cora?" William whispered.  
  
They were crouched behind a fruit stand, watching Cora hugging Gerald. Wat made a noise of disgust and turned to Will.  
  
"Have you ever heard about the special bond between brothers and sisters, Will? "  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, it's when the brother is completely overprotective of his sister and makes himself look like an idiot while he makes sure she doesn't get into trouble."  
  
"But, you always make yourself look like an idiot."  
  
"Har har." Wat ducked down lower as Cora walked by with Gerald. "He's handsome. I'll give her that." He whispered.  
  
"Sure, but can he joust?" William asked. Wat looked and William and Will shrugged. Wat rolled his eyes and turned back.  
  
"Can you see them? I'm being blocked by a very large woman," Will asked.  
  
"He's buying her a bracelet. A really nice one." Wat's voice was hard, and intimidating. He was challenging Gerald to prove himself worthy.  
  
"This is ridiculous. I need to practise! Shouldn't I be on my horse right now?"  
  
"Shush!" Wat stepped out from behind the stand and stretched his legs in the street. "He's gone."  
  
William followed and stood beside him. "What? Where did he go?"  
  
Wat nodded forward. Cora was walking towards them.  
  
"You two... I can't believe you spied on me. That is the most untrusting, disgusting... nicest, most considerate thing anyone has done for me." She stood on tiptoe and kissed Wat on the cheek. "Thank you for being a nutter."  
  
"Where did Gerald go?" Will asked.  
  
"He had to go see a man about a dog."  
  
William and Wat looked at each other.  
  
"Gambling." They said in unison.  
  
"Gambling?" She put her hands on her hips. "How do you know?"  
  
William sighed. "That's another tale."  
  
She looked over her shoulder, as if she expected to see Gerald cheating at a game of dice. She shrugged when she turned back around and then looked at her wrist.  
  
"Here," she said, unclasping the bracelet. "Give it to Kate." She handed the bracelet to Wat, whom, she was pleased to note, was very pink in the ears from the sudden fortune.  
  
"I've never given Kate jewelry before! Maybe a hammer or two, but never something she actually liked!" He grinned and put the bracelet in his pocket.  
  
Cora grinned in return and then looked at William, who was looking back quite seriously.  
  
"Did you find out anything?"  
  
"He is doing well. His squire, Peter, is running him ragged, so he is tired." She took a step closer to William and lowered her voice, as if she were committing a sin to reveal the information. "I am a little worried for you, William. Watch yourself, all right?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Just steady on, all right?"  
  
He looked concerned but nodded. "All right."  
  
She stepped away quickly and looked at the two men. "What are you going to do now?"  
  
"Eat!" Wat said joyously, rubbing his stomach. "We worked up quite an appetite spying on you!"  
  
"Yes well I think I lost mine having to talk to Gerald."  
  
"You must be a good actress, then. You two looked cozy."  
  
Cora turned to William sharply. His tone sounded almost accusing. Wat hardly seemed to notice, though.  
  
"Accompany us, to eat?"  
  
Cora shook her head. "No, I think I'll be heading back to rest. Remember what I said, Will. There are people who want to see you fail."  
  
"That's what makes my father so great," William said as he started to walk away with Wat. "He never will." 


	9. Emerill

**A/N: I know it is the 26th, but Happy Christmas, anyway. ( And to take care of my half Jewish side-happy belated Hanukkah! I hope you all have a great New Years. Wow, it will be 2003 and I am writing about the renaissance. Go figure (  
  
  
  
"HOLY SHIT!"  
  
William sat upright in bed. Someone downstairs was screaming obscenities. A woman's voice, no doubt Kate's. He cursed Kate for screaming before the sun had even begun to rise. He was exhausted from training and had spent the night at Wat's house. He threw the blankets off of himself, and groaned when he realised how sore his back was.  
  
"GOD DAMN IT!"  
  
Now he was more than curious. Kate was at least courteous -- most of the time. The floor was cold when he set his bare feet on it and it took him a moment to stand up. He could hear things falling downstairs, and, taking a wide yawn, he opened his door and walked down the staircase.  
  
Cora was standing in front of a counter, red hair falling out of a loose bun, wearing a flour coated apron. Her face was smudged with flour and egg.  
  
"How is that BLOODY possible?" She muttered to herself.  
  
William rested his hand on a chair and cleared his throat. She jumped and then turned around.  
  
"Morning," he said. "Trouble in the kitchen?"  
  
She set down the dough she had been kneading, and wiped the hair out of her face, causing more flour to powder her cheek.  
  
"No, everything's quite fine. Really. Did I wake you?"  
  
"I'm not sure if it was you. I woke up to someone screaming and thought it was Kate. Have you seen her?"  
  
"No. She's still sleeping."  
  
"Right. So it was you." He walked up to the counter to see what she was doing to cause so much frustration.  
  
"What are you making?"  
  
"Bread. At least I am trying to. Doesn't it look like bread?" Her voice sounded hopeful, and panicked.  
  
"Perhaps... but is bread really supposed to be that color?"  
  
"It said to add four eggs."  
  
"Four egg whites." William corrected. He took an egg and cracked it on the bowl, and then took out the yolk. "Egg whites." He showed her what was left inside the shell.  
  
She sighed loudly and sat down in a chair.  
  
"You've never made bread before, have you?" He asked.  
  
She closed her eyes as if trying to block out the experience. Her eyelids were coated with flour. "I've never cooked anything before."  
  
"Well bread wasn't a very easy start. Why were you trying to bake it, anyway?"  
  
"I wanted to make it for when you three woke up. But I don't think that'll be happening, now."  
  
"Well do you want me to help you?"  
  
"I don't need help." She said. She stood back up and poked the dough with her finger. "See. Crusty."  
  
William tried not to laugh. "It's supposed to be crusty after it's baked."  
  
"Where am I supposed to bake this?"  
  
"In the oven."  
  
"How do I start an oven?"  
  
"By putting firewood in it."  
  
"How do I get firewood?"  
  
"Chop it down!"  
  
She put her hand to her chest. She looked at the dough and sighed again.  
  
"You only have to ask. Don't be so stubborn."  
  
She glanced at him and frowned. Then she threw up her hands, resigning.  
  
"William, would you be so gracious as to help me bake bread?"  
  
"No."  
  
"But! You just said-"  
  
"Just joking," he said, grinning. He looked at the bread and poked it also. "Let's start fresh, all right?"  
  
"What should we do with the old dough then?"  
  
"We could pitch it... or we could try to bake it and give it to Geoff?"  
  
"Don't be cruel. It looks poisonous, throw it out."  
  
He set it aside and grabbed a large bag of sugar.  
  
"All right. Do you understand measurements?"  
  
"No."  
  
"All right, well it says three heaping spoonfuls." He grabbed a spoon and started scooping out the sugar.  
  
She studied him for a moment and sighed.  
  
"You shouldn't be helping me, Will. You should be in bed."  
  
"I should, shouldn't I?" He grinned at her and reached for the flour next.  
  
"How hard has my brother been working you?"  
  
His hand rested in midair as he looked at her. "Do I really look that bad?"  
  
"You look tired." She noted. His hair was standing out in all directions, eyelids drooping from lack of sleep, and his shirt, pants, and bare feet hardly looked like enough to keep him warm.  
  
"I am fine," he said through a yawn. He was cracking eggs and taking out the yolks now. "Egg whites." He said, and showed her again.  
  
"How did I get to be such a mess, and you still have your hands clean?" She asked as she studied her fingernails.  
  
"It's all right. You should have seen me the first time I cooked."  
  
"What?" She asked slowly. Did it look something like this?" She threw a handful of flour at him, which splattered across his cheek.  
  
He turned his face to her, eyes blank. "What did you do that for?" His voice wasn't angry.  
  
"I don't know about you, Sir William, but I always played with my food."  
  
He didn't say anything but continued to measure out ingredients. Cora looked at his face and felt embarrassed. He wasn't retaliating. He looked almost sad.  
  
"Look, Will, I'm sorry-"  
  
Before she could end the sentence he had cracked an egg on her head.  
  
"For what?" He asked. He was smiling too sweetly.  
  
"Oh that's it." She said. She grabbed more flour and threw it at his hair.  
  
"Now you look just like the King, with your powdered hair."  
  
"Well the king is allowed to do anything he bloody well chooses. So this isn't illegal-" He threw a cup of water at her, which splashed on her apron and started soaking the floor.  
  
"We're going to wake up Wat and Kate."  
  
He leaned in and whispered.  
  
"I don't care."  
  
He lifted up his hand and smashed another egg on her head. "It's his house. He'll have to clean it up."  
  
She screamed loudly and tried to grab for the eggs. He grabbed her wrists with one hand and continued to pelt her with eggs with the other. She tried to wriggle out of his grip, but her feet lost their balance and she tumbled to the floor. William stopped throwing things at her and crouched down.  
  
"Are you all right?" He asked.  
  
"Never better." She said through a fit of giggles. She grabbed some of the fallen yolk and threw it at his face. "Never better."  
  
He ignored the sneak attack, and tried to help her up but the combination of her weight and the slippery floor made him fall also. He was sprawled on the ground besides Cora, almost laughing harder than her. Footsteps on the staircase made both of them stop, and Cora sat up to see Wat standing on the bottom step, clutching a pillow and rubbing his eyes.  
  
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" He asked. His eyes glanced at Will on the floor next to Cora. "What are you two doing?"  
  
"Baking," Will said. "Or at least trying to." He threw some flour on Cora's head, which stuck nicely to the egg.  
  
She turned to him and mussed his hair, laughing as flour fell around him like snow.  
  
"Why are you on the floor?" He asked.  
  
William stood up quickly. He recognized the protective tone in Wat's voice. "We slipped on the egg." He said.  
  
"Well maybe you wouldn't have if you hadn't made such a mess. Honestly, you two behave like children." He walked into the kitchen and picked up an egg, studying it. Without warning, he smashed it in Will's hair.  
  
Cora reacted first. She grabbed Wat from behind and held him around the waist while Will threw eggs and flour at him.  
  
"Cora!" Wat screamed. "We share blood! Help me!"  
  
She ignored William, who was shaking his head and mouthing no, and let go of Wat. He stumbled forward and started chucking things at Will, who was now backed into the corner.  
  
"Making a mess of my kitchen!" He yelled. "Waking me up!" He threw another egg at William. "You better have this cleaned up before I wake up again or I will give you a bloody good fonging!" He threw one more egg at Will and then stepped away, breathing heavily. "Now if you don't mind, I am going to wash up and get back to bed."  
  
He walked away, slipping slightly on the floor, and then clamored up the steps.  
  
Cora looked at the mess. "Is this how bread is supposed to look?" She asked, suppressing the urge to laugh.  
  
"Exactly." He said, and threw another egg at her. 


	10. IMPORTANT NOTE FROM AUTHOR::PLEASE READ

Hi, this is the author. 'Miniver Cheevy' is taking a break for now. It doesn't have anything to do with the latest review (well, in a way it does.) But I completely agree with it. 'Miniver' is not entirely in my writing style. I have been trying to write chapters just to use a creative outlet and I am not completely proud of the story - so why continue? I assure you, I will be back, with a newer, better version. It is hard to write something with quality when there is not enough of a quantity of time. To all the fans - it really is for the best. In a few months you'll have something more unique, more thought out, and updated on a better time schedule. Thank you for those who have been loyal during these nine chapters. I can't wait to hear from you all again soon! Thank you ( - MicB 


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